they say that when a targaryen is born, a coin is flipped and all the world stops. for in that single, fleeting, moment the fate of the world lies in that childs' hands. who lives, who dies - everything - can be made or broken by their shrill scream...
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
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LADIES FIRST ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
...ARYA STARK had never believed that Valeria Targaryen was real — for it was just too much of an impossibility. She truly did defy every constraint, rule and convention in existence with an innate, curious, relentlessness that had bewitched Arya to no ends. The way she moved was simply unfathomable, her hair cast in silver and her eyes too wild to comprehend — the magnum opus of a crazed jeweller, whose darting hands had slaved for hours upon the most magnificent creation that was her face.
Valyrian steel met amethyst as they simply stared at each other, their noses almost touching, each at a distance far too close for friends. Arya was entranced, defeated, and what was more — she loved it. There was a sense of peace in this state of simple togetherness, a fleeting, beautiful morsel of quietness in that o' so mad world.
"Any more of this staring and fear I might faint. What is it that you want, Arya?" Valeria's silver tongue was quick to split the silence into two — the faintest trace of a grin haunting her lips as she tilted her head leftwards, her ghost of a grin growing increasingly obvious by the second.
"Nothing." She shrugged, coyly. "I can leave if that's what you'd like." Arya mused, watching on with great delight as Valeria simply shook her head, slowly. It was clear to her that she had no real choice in the matter, for whatever her rational mind may have been telling her, her heart longed for something different — something dangerous.
"I know you well enough to understand that's not true." Valeria whispered. "Stay, but don't think I'll let you lie to me, Stark. You're incapable of doing anything without an ulterior motive — so please, pray tell me, what is it?" She posed this most fateful of questions with an almost otherworldly degree of calmness, slinking slowly towards the corner of her chamber as she spoke, and pouring herself a concerningly deep glass of a crimson wine from the towering carafe balanced just atop her dresser.
![the thaw. [arya stark]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/258334519-64-k919364.jpg)